On Tom's last trip over to the fort he had learned that our old Company K, First Cavalry, together with the other three companies from Fort Wise, under command of Captain Elmer Otis, had passed by Fort Larned a few days before, _en route_ to Fort Leavenworth and the war. We were all sorry that we had not learned of the passing of our old command in time for one of our party, at least, to meet them at Fort Larned and exchange gossip with them; and Jack was regretting that he had not re-enlisted, instead of going wolf hunting, so that he could now be going to the front with them. He feared that the fighting would be all over and the war brought to a close before he got a chance at it. "Don't you fret about this war coming to a close before you can get a whack at them rebels," said Tom. "It's just a-getting under good headway now, an' there'll be lots of good fighting yet for you and me; and more'n likely, if we live through it, we'll be longing for peace long before peace comes again." Our tent was fast becoming filled with bales of wolfskins, and one day I asked: "Tom, what are we going to do for some place to store our wolfskins? Our tent is nearly full, and we are still taking them, and the season isn't half through." "I've been thinking about that, too," replied the old man, "and I guess I'll make another trip over to the fort to-morrow to get them buffalo calfskins for my overcoat, an' while I'm over there I'll try to get the use of an empty room there among the old dobes where we can store 'em; an' we can take a wagon-load over from time to time as the tent gets too full." Next day he went to the fort, returning on the following evening, with a lot of Indian-dressed buffalo calfskins for his overcoat, and reported that he had engaged an unused room of Weisselbaum wherein to store our baled skins. Tom soon had a very serviceable overcoat made from the calfskins--far better than the coyote coats Jack and I had made us--lining it with a red blanket and covering the collar and cuffs with muskrat skins, which have a beautiful fur, somewhat similar to the beaver in color but not so heavy. As yet we had had but one light fall of snow--nothing like a storm--and it had soon passed off, the weather continuing fair but quite cold of nights and mornings. One day, as we were about to sit down to dinner, my attention was arrested by a whoop or two that had a familiar sound, and, on looking out on the trail toward the fort, I saw a mounted man coming at a gallop. Found, too, seemed to think he had heard that whoop before, for he ran up onto the dirt roof of our dugout, looked and listened a moment at the approaching horseman, and when the shout was repeated he hesitated no longer but with a wild yelp of recognition dashed away to meet the newcomer.